added more content

master
alicestrt 3 years ago
parent 8faffa58e6
commit 5f2789e8e3

@ -145,6 +145,13 @@ a {
animation: glow 1s ease-in-out infinite alternate;
}
.footer_page {
font-family: 'Poppins', sans-serif;
font-size: 12px;
text-align: center;
margin-top: 20px;
}
@-webkit-keyframes glow {
from {
text-shadow: 0 0 10px #fff, 0 0 20px #fff, 0 0 30px #e60073, 0 0 40px #e60073, 0 0 50px #e60073, 0 0 60px #e60073, 0 0 70px #e60073;
@ -204,7 +211,7 @@ a {
</b-col>
<b-col md="2">
<p>first</p>
<p><a href="/knife">Knife</a></p>
</b-col>
@ -214,7 +221,7 @@ a {
<b-row class="icons">
<b-col md="2" offset-md="5" order="1" order-sm="0">
<p>second</p>
<p><a href="/simmered">Simmered Egg</a></p>
</b-col>
<b-col md="2" order="0" order-sm="1">
@ -222,6 +229,53 @@ a {
</b-col>
</b-row>
<b-row class="icons">
<b-col md="2" offset-md="3">
</b-col>
<b-col md="2">
<p><a href="/soulsoup">Chicken soup for soul</a></p>
</b-col>
</b-row>
<b-row class="icons">
<b-col md="2" offset-md="3">
</b-col>
<b-col md="2">
<p><a href="/phone">Christmas dinner</a></p>
</b-col>
</b-row>
<b-row class="icons">
<b-col md="4" >
</b-col>
<b-col md="4">
<p><a href="/whatwecan">We do what we can with what we have</a></p>
</b-col>
</b-row>
<b-row class="icons">
<b-col md="4" >
</b-col>
<b-col md="4">
<p><a href="/lychee">Have you eaten yet?</a></p>
</b-col>
</b-row>
<b-row>
<b-col>
<footer>
<p class="footer_page">This web publication was created by Alice Strete</p>
</footer>
</b-col>
</b-row>
</b-container>

@ -0,0 +1,178 @@
<style scoped>
@import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Viga&display=swap');
@import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Roboto+Mono&display=swap');
* {
border: 0px black solid;
background-color: #fff5f5;
}
.container_width {
max-width: 100%;
padding-left: 0px;
padding-right: 0px;
padding-top: 70px;
}
a:hover {
color: hotpink;
text-decoration: none;
}
a {
color: gray;
}
.content {
padding-right: 50px;
padding-top: 40px;
font-family: 'Poppins', sans-serif;;
font-size: 15px;
padding-left: 20px;
padding-bottom: 40px;
}
.title_story {
font-size: 80px;
font-family: 'Work Sans', sans-serif;
padding-left: 20px;
padding-top: 70px;
color: #333042
}
.image_container {
padding-top: 10px;
}
.author {
font-size: 20px;
font-family: 'Poppins', sans-serif;;
padding-left: 20px;
}
.image_container img {
max-width: 80%
}
.small_icon {
max-width: 20%;
padding-top: 70px;
}
#knife {
margin-top: 30px;
}
@media (max-width: 575px){
.small_icon {
max-width: 50%;
padding-top: 20px;
}
.title_story {
font-size: 30px;
}
.author {
font-size: 15px;
}
}
</style>
<template>
<b-container fluid class="p-0">
<MenuBar/>
<b-row>
<b-col md="8">
<p class="title_story">Paper thin</p>
<b-row>
<b-col md="6">
<p class="author">an essay by Yoana Buzova</p>
</b-col>
</b-row>
</b-col>
<b-col md="2" class="small_icon">
<div class="zoom">
<a href="/recipe"><b-img center class="img-fluid" alt="Responsive image" src="media/recipe_prev.png"> </b-img></a>
</div>
</b-col>
<b-col md="2" class="small_icon">
<div class="zoom">
<a href="/leekpilaf"><b-img center class="img-fluid" alt="Responsive image" src="media/leek_next.png"> </b-img></a>
</div>
</b-col>
</b-row>
<b-row>
<b-col md="5">
<div class='content'>
<p>The first time I was allowed to use a knife was at my grandparents house. Perhaps not so allowed, as encouraged and maybe even obliged to. It felt so empowering, I felt so trusted, so weirdly and preciously mature. Grown-ups have an inability to perceive especially important things. My parents did not understand how important it was to be given the chance to use a knife by myself as early as possible. Luckily, grandparents are such creatures who can easily deviate from the grown-up mentality. </p>
<p>
It is of great importance to never use a potato peeler when peeling potatoes in my grandparents house. The potato peeler, a piece of technology designed to make lives easier, to automate and create uniformity in a task otherwise tedious and painstaking, was not a respected device in that house. According to my grandmother, it was a device of horrible waste. It simply removed such an evenly thick portion of the potato, that was absolutely unacceptable. It was like throwing half of the edible potato material away in the bin. You see, my grandparents were small kids during the Second World War, and there were times of scarcity, wasting so much of the potato meant less to eat. And we all will agree potatoes are a delicious matter that, no matter how simply or overly complex prepared, manage to satisfy almost any taste, especially that of a hungry child. And so my grandmother loved cooking potatoes, and we always had to use a knife to peel the skin. The peeling process was special, it was not about speed, but about dexterity. The skin had to be peeled paper thin, as to waste as little of the edible material as possible. It took a long time to acquire the skill and mastery to be able to satisfy my grandmother's potato peeling standards. And even being the most skillful peeler, the process was slow, but it was never about speed, it was about disposing as less as humanly possible of the potato.
Afterwards we often simply cut the potatoes and threw them in the oven. My grandmother taught me that it is essential to always cut the potato stripes in such a way that they will be an odd shape that has more than 4 corners. That way the possibility of them sticking together was greatly reduced. </p>
<p>
At present day I own a potato peeler, because as everyone else I must do everything as fast as humanly possible, including peeling potatoes. Peeling with a knife seems like a nerve wrecking activity. Every self-respecting adult must own a potato peeler. And must perform all her tasks, including peeling, with great speed and efficiency.</p>
<p>
When my parents were emptying the house of my grandparents, I kept the knife my grandmother would always give me to peel. I sometimes try using it to peel a potato, or even a cucumber. And I always cut the potatoes in long odd looking pieces that have more than 4 corners. </p>
</div>
</b-col>
<b-col md="7">
<b-container fluid>
<div class="image_container">
<b-row>
<b-col md="9" offset-md="3">
<b-img class="img-fluid" id="knife" src="media/knife/My_Knife.jpg"> </b-img>
</b-col>
</b-row>
<b-row>
<b-col md="6">
</b-col>
<b-col md="6">
</b-col>
</b-row>
</div>
</b-container>
</b-col>
</b-row>
</b-container>
</template>
<script>
import MenuBar from './MenuBar'
export default {
name: 'knife',
data: function() {
return {
}
},
components: {
MenuBar
}
}
</script>

@ -0,0 +1,181 @@
<style scoped>
@import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Viga&display=swap');
@import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Roboto+Mono&display=swap');
* {
border: 0px black solid;
background-color: #fff5f5;
}
.container_width {
max-width: 100%;
padding-left: 0px;
padding-right: 0px;
padding-top: 70px;
}
a:hover {
color: hotpink;
text-decoration: none;
}
a {
color: gray;
}
.content {
padding-right: 50px;
padding-top: 40px;
font-family: 'Poppins', sans-serif;;
font-size: 15px;
padding-left: 20px;
padding-bottom: 40px;
}
.title_story {
font-size: 80px;
font-family: 'Work Sans', sans-serif;
padding-left: 20px;
padding-top: 70px;
color: #333042
}
.image_container {
padding-top: 10px;
}
.author {
font-size: 20px;
font-family: 'Poppins', sans-serif;;
padding-left: 20px;
}
.image_container img {
max-width: 80%
}
.small_icon {
max-width: 20%;
padding-top: 70px;
}
#knife {
margin-top: 30px;
}
@media (max-width: 575px){
.small_icon {
max-width: 50%;
padding-top: 20px;
}
.title_story {
font-size: 30px;
}
.author {
font-size: 15px;
}
}
</style>
<template>
<b-container fluid class="p-0">
<MenuBar/>
<b-row>
<b-col md="8">
<p class="title_story">Have you eaten yet?</p>
<b-row>
<b-col md="6">
<p class="author">an essay by Witold</p>
</b-col>
</b-row>
</b-col>
<b-col md="2" class="small_icon">
<div class="zoom">
<a href="/recipe"><b-img center class="img-fluid" alt="Responsive image" src="media/recipe_prev.png"> </b-img></a>
</div>
</b-col>
<b-col md="2" class="small_icon">
<div class="zoom">
<a href="/leekpilaf"><b-img center class="img-fluid" alt="Responsive image" src="media/leek_next.png"> </b-img></a>
</div>
</b-col>
</b-row>
<b-row>
<b-col md="5">
<div class='content'>
<p>Have You Eaten Yet? <br>
is a Chinese greeting, a way to ask if youre well. </p>
<p>
In the warm season of my first culture shock, I ate things I am not proud of. I prowled the streets for dangerous food in the most informal of settings. The more closely a restaurant resembled a crack den, the stronger its seductive pull. I slipped into grubby roadside shacks to gobble up chicken hearts with chives. Drunk on sorghum liquor, Id stop at informal late-night barbecues for grilled eggplant and squid, eaten hunched over on a pink plastic stool on the sidewalk, watching the gamblers play.</p>
<p>
I didnt speak much Mandarin when my exchange program started, so when confronted with a written menu, Id order largely at random. Other times, I was able to simply point at ingredients in a fridge, adding de - spicy. I ate more chili oil than I could handle and doused my inflamed stomach at night with half-liter bottles of cheap knock-off Qingdao beer. The diet put my body in a state of constant aggravation. I was always eating but I was rarely well.
</p>
<p>
I celebrated my 22nd birthday in a restaurant in Xiamen. Facing an aquarium, my family debated which fish we wanted to have prepared. This caused me serious moral anguish. To my amusement, we got obscenely overcharged. When my stepfather found out, he angrily returned to the restaurant to demand justice from a stoic waiter, who appeased him with a single 100-yuan (12) bill. Not long after this, my stepfather proclaimed himself noedelmoe, tired of noodles, and began to have his lunch at McDonalds.
</p>
<p>
I celebrated my 28th birthday at Sānsān in Rotterdam. Like newlyweds, we ordered Maos Favored Fish, an opulent pot of hot-sour soup with sea bass and strange, pickled berries. We had just moved to the city together and allowed ourselves to hope that the worst of the pandemic was behind us, that a life was about to begin. Six months later, we cant even have a coffee, while the people of Wuhan have safely scurried back into their bootleg noodle booths.
</p>
<p>
When we first met, food was a simpler affair: a pre-sliced bag of vegetables blandly stir-fried with tempeh sufficed. Now, coveted and exotic parcels descend on us from the ether, one after another. Green Sichuan peppers from Chongqing, bucatini from Abruzzo, Oaxacan blue masa harina for fresh tortillas. We nurse each other like baby birds with steamed dumplings and gnocchi. We forage at the Chinese Boat and carry comforting, foreign ferments back to our nest.
</p>
<p>
Have you eaten yet? I ask. No, everything is bad, you say. <br>
When you start to cry, I bring you lychees.</p>
</div>
</b-col>
<b-col md="7">
<b-container fluid>
<div class="image_container">
<b-row>
<b-col md="6">
</b-col>
<b-col md="6">
</b-col>
</b-row>
</div>
</b-container>
</b-col>
</b-row>
</b-container>
</template>
<script>
import MenuBar from './MenuBar'
export default {
name: 'lychee',
data: function() {
return {
}
},
components: {
MenuBar
}
}
</script>

@ -0,0 +1,181 @@
<style scoped>
@import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Viga&display=swap');
@import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Roboto+Mono&display=swap');
* {
border: 0px black solid;
background-color: #fff5f5;
}
.container_width {
max-width: 100%;
padding-left: 0px;
padding-right: 0px;
padding-top: 70px;
}
a:hover {
color: hotpink;
text-decoration: none;
}
a {
color: gray;
}
.content {
padding-right: 50px;
padding-top: 40px;
font-family: 'Poppins', sans-serif;;
font-size: 15px;
padding-left: 20px;
padding-bottom: 40px;
}
.title_story {
font-size: 80px;
font-family: 'Work Sans', sans-serif;
padding-left: 20px;
padding-top: 70px;
color: #333042
}
.image_container {
padding-top: 10px;
}
.author {
font-size: 20px;
font-family: 'Poppins', sans-serif;;
padding-left: 20px;
}
.image_container img {
max-width: 80%
}
.small_icon {
max-width: 20%;
padding-top: 70px;
}
#knife {
margin-top: 30px;
}
@media (max-width: 575px){
.small_icon {
max-width: 50%;
padding-top: 20px;
}
.title_story {
font-size: 30px;
}
.author {
font-size: 15px;
}
}
</style>
<template>
<b-container fluid class="p-0">
<MenuBar/>
<b-row>
<b-col md="8">
<p class="title_story">Christmas dinner</p>
<b-row>
<b-col md="6">
<p class="author">an poem by Valentina</p>
</b-col>
</b-row>
</b-col>
<b-col md="2" class="small_icon">
<div class="zoom">
<a href="/recipe"><b-img center class="img-fluid" alt="Responsive image" src="media/recipe_prev.png"> </b-img></a>
</div>
</b-col>
<b-col md="2" class="small_icon">
<div class="zoom">
<a href="/leekpilaf"><b-img center class="img-fluid" alt="Responsive image" src="media/leek_next.png"> </b-img></a>
</div>
</b-col>
</b-row>
<b-row>
<b-col md="6">
<div class='content'>
<p>
Two tablespoons olive oil, plus extra<br>
his hair was soft and silvery<br>
three pounds yellow onions peeled and sliced into half moons<br>
his hands moved gracefully across the piano<br>
sea salt and ground black pepper, to taste<br>
he married the wrong woman<br>
one tablespoon thyme leaves, minced<br>
I wouldnt be here if he hadnt<br>
one bay leaf<br>
most days she didnt know who he was<br>
one clove of garlic, minced<br>
the lockdown put an end to his daily walks<br>
one tablespoon tomato paste<br>
he directed operas in the eighties<br>
one 12 cups French lentils, rinsed<br>
he spent his 93rd year watching soccer games alone<br>
one 12 tablespoons sherry/balsamic vinegar<br>
hoping to hear from us<br>
one 12 tablespoons gluten-free tamari soy sauce<br>
we rarely called<br>
five cups vegetable stock, plus extra<br>
I should have called<br>
two cups water<br>
I should have called every day or moved back home<br>
two cloves of garlic, peeled and smashed<br>
when I come back to the kitchen after hanging up the phone<br>
one 12 pound Yukon gold potatoes, peeled and chopped<br>
the lentils are sticking to the bottom of the pot<br>
four cups cauliflower florets (from approximately 12 a large head)<br>
Im turning the wooden spoon mechanically<br>
four tablespoons vegan butter, at room temperature<br>
hes dead, I mumble<br>
12 cup unsweetened non-dairy milk<br>
it isnt dead says Witold, just a little burnt<br>
one tablespoon nutritional yeast<br>
no, hes dead, hes dead,<br>
sea salt and ground black pepper, to taste.</p>
</div>
</b-col>
</b-row>
</b-container>
</template>
<script>
import MenuBar from './MenuBar'
export default {
name: 'phone',
data: function() {
return {
}
},
components: {
MenuBar
}
}
</script>

@ -0,0 +1,206 @@
<style scoped>
@import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Viga&display=swap');
@import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Roboto+Mono&display=swap');
* {
border: 0px black solid;
background-color: #fff5f5;
}
.container_width {
max-width: 100%;
padding-left: 0px;
padding-right: 0px;
padding-top: 70px;
}
a:hover {
color: hotpink;
text-decoration: none;
}
a {
color: gray;
}
.content {
padding-right: 50px;
padding-top: 40px;
font-family: 'Poppins', sans-serif;;
font-size: 15px;
padding-left: 20px;
padding-bottom: 40px;
}
.title_story {
font-size: 80px;
font-family: 'Work Sans', sans-serif;
padding-left: 20px;
padding-top: 70px;
color: #333042
}
.image_container {
padding-top: 10px;
}
.author {
font-size: 20px;
font-family: 'Poppins', sans-serif;;
padding-left: 20px;
}
.image_container img {
max-width: 80%
}
.small_icon {
max-width: 20%;
padding-top: 70px;
}
#knife {
margin-top: 30px;
}
@media (max-width: 575px){
.small_icon {
max-width: 50%;
padding-top: 20px;
}
.title_story {
font-size: 30px;
}
.author {
font-size: 15px;
}
}
</style>
<template>
<b-container fluid class="p-0">
<MenuBar/>
<b-row>
<b-col md="8">
<p class="title_story">Simmered Egg <br>(Hakka style)</p>
<b-row>
<b-col md="6">
<p class="author">an essay by Dorothy Cheung</p>
</b-col>
</b-row>
</b-col>
<b-col md="2" class="small_icon">
<div class="zoom">
<a href="/recipe"><b-img center class="img-fluid" alt="Responsive image" src="media/recipe_prev.png"> </b-img></a>
</div>
</b-col>
<b-col md="2" class="small_icon">
<div class="zoom">
<a href="/leekpilaf"><b-img center class="img-fluid" alt="Responsive image" src="media/leek_next.png"> </b-img></a>
</div>
</b-col>
</b-row>
<b-row>
<b-col md="5">
<div class='content'>
<p>Thanks to the pandemic, I am spending much more time in Hong Kong. After losing my
maternal grandmother earlier last year, I feel the urge to visit my paternal grandma more often
but not too often, at least not during another wave of outbreak. Then I found one way to make
her (and me) happy, apart from visiting her in-person to learn cooking from her whenever I
visit and try to cook when I get home.</p>
<p>
My paternal family is Hakka Chinese; literally, it means guest people. The only thing is that we
are self-invited. Historians believe that Hakka people have been migrated for a few times since
3rd century BC before they settled in Southern China. For my grandparents, they moved even
further to Hong Kong.</p>
<p>
According to my grandma, as Hakka people have always been unwelcomed, we could only take
up hilly and infertile fields. That is why most Hakka dishes consist of pickles, organ meat and
coarse vegetables (but of course, at home, we do eat a lot of Cantonese food too). Even so, my
grandmother sometimes cooks a dish that doesnt fall into any of these categories, and she
named it as Simmered Egg - minced pork, diced shiitake mushroom, chopped spring onion
with fluffy egg. It is so soft, comforting, yet somehow delicate.</p>
<p>
In one of the visits, I urged her to show me how to make it. When she was pan-frying the
minced meat and shiitake mushroom, I asked her if Simmered Egg is a Hakka dish at all No,
of course not. Your grandfather used to work in a bookshop, and his Shanghainese boss once
invited us to his place for dinner. I liked this dish, so I tried to cook this at home.
A few weeks later, I wanted to cook this for my partner, and I tried to search Simmered Egg
online, I could not find anything, if not anything related to Shanghainese cuisine. In the end, I
just vaguely followed her instruction and made use of fridge leftovers, replacing pork with tofu,
diced carrot and some dried Yunnan porcini I ordered the other day. It did not taste like
anything she taught me, and at this point, I doubt if it has anything to do with Shanghainese
cuisine at all.</p>
<p>
After all, Simmered Egg is an adaptation made with the spirit of being a Hakka woman -
adapting to changes (and leftover food). </p>
</div>
</b-col>
<b-col md="7">
<b-container fluid>
<div class="image_container">
<b-row>
<b-col md="10" offset-md="2">
<b-img class="img-fluid" id="knife" src="media/simmered/Simmeregg01.png"> </b-img>
</b-col>
</b-row>
<b-row>
<b-col md="10" offset-md="2">
<b-img class="img-fluid" id="knife" src="media/simmered/Simmeregg01.png"> </b-img>
</b-col>
</b-row>
<b-row>
<b-col md="10" offset-md="2">
<b-img class="img-fluid" id="knife" src="media/simmered/Simmeregg02.png"> </b-img>
</b-col>
</b-row>
</div>
</b-container>
</b-col>
</b-row>
</b-container>
</template>
<script>
import MenuBar from './MenuBar'
export default {
name: 'simmered',
data: function() {
return {
}
},
components: {
MenuBar
}
}
</script>

@ -0,0 +1,197 @@
<style scoped>
@import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Viga&display=swap');
@import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Roboto+Mono&display=swap');
* {
border: 0px black solid;
background-color: #fff5f5;
}
.container_width {
max-width: 100%;
padding-left: 0px;
padding-right: 0px;
padding-top: 70px;
}
a:hover {
color: hotpink;
text-decoration: none;
}
a {
color: gray;
}
.content {
padding-right: 50px;
padding-top: 40px;
font-family: 'Poppins', sans-serif;;
font-size: 15px;
padding-left: 20px;
padding-bottom: 40px;
}
.title_story {
font-size: 80px;
font-family: 'Work Sans', sans-serif;
padding-left: 20px;
padding-top: 70px;
color: #333042
}
.image_container {
padding-top: 10px;
}
.author {
font-size: 20px;
font-family: 'Poppins', sans-serif;;
padding-left: 20px;
}
.image_container img {
max-width: 80%
}
.small_icon {
max-width: 20%;
padding-top: 70px;
}
#knife {
margin-top: 30px;
}
@media (max-width: 575px){
.small_icon {
max-width: 50%;
padding-top: 20px;
}
.title_story {
font-size: 30px;
}
.author {
font-size: 15px;
}
}
</style>
<template>
<b-container fluid class="p-0">
<MenuBar/>
<b-row>
<b-col md="8">
<p class="title_story">Chicken soup for soul</p>
<b-row>
<b-col md="6">
<p class="author">an essay by Patricia Cîrtog</p>
</b-col>
</b-row>
</b-col>
<b-col md="2" class="small_icon">
<div class="zoom">
<a href="/recipe"><b-img center class="img-fluid" alt="Responsive image" src="media/recipe_prev.png"> </b-img></a>
</div>
</b-col>
<b-col md="2" class="small_icon">
<div class="zoom">
<a href="/leekpilaf"><b-img center class="img-fluid" alt="Responsive image" src="media/leek_next.png"> </b-img></a>
</div>
</b-col>
</b-row>
<b-row>
<b-col md="5">
<div class='content'>
<p>Morning As a commuter, my morning used to be a colorful bustle of to-go coffee, endless
searches for a complete pair for socks, mothers kisses while dressing myself up and, above all,
the run for the bus used to be my refresh button that offered me a glance of hope for a wonderful
day. However, things changed drastically when the pandemic stroke out and our school was
closed. Suddenly, my hole adventure experienced in my way to school was replaced by a simple
click on Join.</p>
<p>
At the beginning, I was excited for being able to water the plants while admiring the sunrise, to
cook my breakfast and to spend time with my beautiful pet, Pretty. I thought that I would wake
up at 6:00 oclock, do some physical exercises, learn a new language, be as productive as
possible and so on and so forth, because I finally had time. Not a chance. After a while, my only
activity in the morning was to play with my sweet dog as I watched the sunrise. But it was
something more than just playing. That moment of the day became a form of escapism from the
reality, sheltering with Pretty and enjoying ourselves. I felt terrible and anxious because of the
uncertain situation and the isolation, but spending my mornings with Pretty was therapeutical for
me. Her gentle, yellow fur, reminding me of wheat spices in the sun, offered me a safe place to
ease. I loved the fact that there was no necessity to talk or to be productive. We used to eat our
breakfast together and to play the most ridiculous games, but we used to feel each other so deep.
And that was the way my morning bustle turned into a quiet, happy moment.</p>
<p>
Then, here I am, all alone. I stare blankly. Its 6:00 oclock and the sunrise is not showing yet.
Pretty died after a few days of fighting with a monster which could not be driven away. How
should this morning unfold?</p>
<p>
Its the first time when I feel emptiness. I feel myself as being empty from the crown of the head
to the tip of the toe. I close my eyes. Hundreds of thoughts are whirling around my head, just like
autumn leaves in a stormy day. I am crawling to the kitchen just like Pretty used to do when I
asked her to come with me to the attic because I was too afraid. I open the door from the larder
apathetically and I take the kettle. But my attention is captivated by this big, white cauliflower.
And, all of a sudden, my senses are sending me to my childhood memories. When I was a little
girl cooking with my lovely grandmother and talking about everything in the world. We used to
cook something that we called: chicken soup for soul. It is a sweet soup full of vegetables that I
didnt actually realized I knew the recipe until this moment of connection with my inner child. I
remember myself begging my grandmother to add some more cauliflower to the soup, because I
really loved it. I used to perceive those little strips as some small bouquets of daisies floating in a
deep steaming lake. Somewhere, in a hidden pigeonhole of my mind, Ive found the voice of my
grandmother teaching me how to make this soup. And there it is:</p>
<p>
Chop two onions in small, small pieces. Take from the fridge half a celery and a medium
pepper and cut them carefully just as big as the toffees you eat. Add a little love. Then chop 2 carrots, put them all in our red medium pot and add some cauliflower and broccoli. Dont forget
about the little pieces of chicken breast and a pinch of salt. And put the pot on the cooker stove,
over medium heat. </p>
<p>While I remember my grandmothers words, I do exactly what I should in order to prepare this
soup meant to warm my soul. While it is boiling, I imagine myself dancing and singing around
my grandmother and a sense of fulfillment touches my inner feelings. After the meat is cooked, I
add some herbs (parsley, basil, oregano and thyme) and a vegetable cube. I taste it with a
wooden spoon while I admire my small bouquets of cauliflower and I tell myself: This soup is
delicious!.</p>
<p>Now, Im ready to press the Join button. My online classes are just about to start. Maybe
making some soup havent solved all of my problems, but Ive felt a sense of achievement and
joy in these dark moments. For lunch, I will eat my chicken soup for soul. Maybe Ill do it
crying, maybe quietly, but the company of cooking has offered me peace.</p>
</div>
</b-col>
<b-col md="7">
</b-col>
</b-row>
</b-container>
</template>
<script>
import MenuBar from './MenuBar'
export default {
name: 'soulsoup',
data: function() {
return {
}
},
components: {
MenuBar
}
}
</script>

@ -0,0 +1,245 @@
<style scoped>
@import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Viga&display=swap');
@import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Roboto+Mono&display=swap');
* {
border: 0px black solid;
background-color: #fff5f5;
}
.container_width {
max-width: 100%;
padding-left: 0px;
padding-right: 0px;
padding-top: 70px;
}
a:hover {
color: hotpink;
text-decoration: none;
}
a {
color: gray;
}
.content {
padding-right: 50px;
padding-top: 40px;
font-family: 'Poppins', sans-serif;;
font-size: 15px;
padding-left: 20px;
padding-bottom: 40px;
}
.title_story {
font-size: 80px;
font-family: 'Work Sans', sans-serif;
padding-left: 20px;
padding-top: 70px;
color: #333042
}
.image_container {
padding-top: 10px;
}
.author {
font-size: 20px;
font-family: 'Poppins', sans-serif;;
padding-left: 20px;
}
.image_container img {
max-width: 80%
}
.small_icon {
max-width: 20%;
padding-top: 70px;
}
#knife {
margin-top: 30px;
}
@media (max-width: 575px){
.small_icon {
max-width: 50%;
padding-top: 20px;
}
.title_story {
font-size: 30px;
}
.author {
font-size: 15px;
}
}
</style>
<template>
<b-container fluid class="p-0">
<MenuBar/>
<b-row>
<b-col md="8">
<p class="title_story">Simmered Egg <br>(Hakka style)</p>
<b-row>
<b-col md="6">
<p class="author">an essay by Dorothy Cheung</p>
</b-col>
</b-row>
</b-col>
<b-col md="2" class="small_icon">
<div class="zoom">
<a href="/recipe"><b-img center class="img-fluid" alt="Responsive image" src="media/recipe_prev.png"> </b-img></a>
</div>
</b-col>
<b-col md="2" class="small_icon">
<div class="zoom">
<a href="/leekpilaf"><b-img center class="img-fluid" alt="Responsive image" src="media/leek_next.png"> </b-img></a>
</div>
</b-col>
</b-row>
<b-row>
<b-col md="5">
<div class='content'>
<p>This became our house motto during quarantine. Devised at first as a way to rationalize the situation
and counter the urge to nip to the shops for that extra can of beans, or the right kind of noodles, the
saying would soon evolve into a blanket pardon for all kitchen sins. What might have been
inexcusable in normal times was now allowed, even encouraged; no transgression was off-limits.
Anything could be remedied, adjusted, forgiven.</p>
<p>
We do what we can, with what we have. Under this refrain, approximations became standard. As
long as the item substituted was vaguely in the same category as its counterpart, it was accepted. If
a recipe called for shiitake, any kind of mushroom would do. Onions and leeks became
interchangeable, herbs synonymous. Eventually, we started thinking of ingredients only in terms of
their common denominators: legumes, alliums, citrus and greens.</p>
<p>
This in turn opened the door to a kind of culinary freedom I used to scoff at. Previously a devout
follower of recipes, a measurer of quantities, I felt myself loosening up, and began to strip away
layer upon layer of prejudice. Cooking had become a game of musical chairs, and I was relearning
how to play. Sometimes the combinations worked, and sometimes they were less successful. On
occasion they were even an improvement on the original. When it came, failure was generally the
result of technique rather than taste, like the meatballs: bound with yoghurt instead of eggs, they
refused to hold their shape, and were instead fried like mince, then made into a Middle Eastern riff
on Bolognese.</p>
<p>
We do what we can, with what we have. There was always something different, a missing ingredient
replaced with something that pushed the recipe into a new territory or flavour profile.</p>
<p>
Then I wanted to have more.</p>
<p>
When lockdown started in the UK, we stopped going to the supermarket. My favourite prepandemic
routine had been to walk the length of our high street, zigzagging from shop to shop, and building
menus as I went. COVID had quickly put an end to that. Instead, I spent hours trawling the Internet
for local suppliers who accepted online orders - first for fruit and vegetables, and later bread, meat
and dairy.</p>
<p>
The online orders meant a change in habit. Not only did our meals have to be planned in advance;
ingredients also had to last, and stretched as far as possible. I turned to the freezer. Once the resting
ground for half-used bags of frozen peas and long-expired ice cream, the freezer now made all meals
possible. Breads were quartered, wrapped and frozen. Fresh herbs were bought in bulk and
suspended in time to make sure they were always on hand: dill, parsley, mint and basil, all chopped
and neatly kept in small sandwich bags. Meat was the easiest, as it often came freezer-ready from
the supplier. Egg whites, bagels, broth and chocolate cake; nothing that could be frozen wasnt, and
every online order included something bought solely for the freezer. It became the hardestworking
appliance in the house, a treasure chest and time capsule.</p>
<p>
What we couldnt order, we made. A casualty of the bulk-buying craze at the start of the pandemic,
pasta had become notoriously difficult to find either in-store or online. And then I remembered we
had a pasta machine. Never used and previously belonging to a relative, it had spent years in the
back of the cupboard, too heavy and complicated-looking to warrant a try. Now there was an
excuse, and it took pride of place on the kitchen counter. We didnt experiment much with shapes,
and found it easier to cut tagliatelle with a sharp knife than the machines attachment. Not having a
pasta drying rack meant hanging our fresh ribbons on the clothes horse, which was both endlessly
amusing and surprisingly effective. We do what we can, with what we have.</p>
<p>
Another lesson was bread. We both hated supermarket sandwich bread, and although our local
bakery did deliver, the habit was expensive. It quickly became hard to justify spending so much on a
few loaves of sourdough, as delicious and freezer-friendly as they were. So, I started baking. After an
early and unexpected success with bagels, I moved on to bread rolls. Focaccia was next. I grew bold,
and tried my hand at burger buns and brioche. Romanian breads I loved the most, and since visiting
home was out of the question, baking them proved comforting in a spiritual sense. They were also
the most successful.</p>
<p>
What I stayed away from was sourdough. I was at once both daunted by the process, which felt
limiting and unforgiving, and repulsed by the idea of storing a living thing in the fridge. And what if
the wrong kind of bacteria developed could I poison us?</p>
<p>
And then came the second lockdown. Indoors again, I missed sourdough, especially after a few trips
to the farmers market over the summer in search of loaves. So, I went for it. Building the starter
brought a new routine, a daily ritual of feeding and discarding, of watching for growth. Its had many
names, mainly because we kept forgetting what wed previously called it. We recently settled on
Oddish, a Pokemon reference, the idea being to avoid further evolutions. Since November its
yielded countless loaves, and weve learned to bake with it unfed to maximize tang and chew.
This past year has been a lesson in many ways. Weve steered away from supermarkets and bought
small and local. We learned home economics. What had once been bought on a whim and left to rot
at the back of the fridge is now washed, blanched and frozen for a later day. Repertoires are
expanded and new techniques have been learned. Most importantly though, the pandemic has been
a lesson in coping, in adapting to the situation and creating new habits, meals and rituals out of what
is already there.</p>
<p> We do what we can, with what we have.</p>
</div>
</b-col>
<b-col md="7">
<b-container fluid>
<div class="image_container">
<b-row>
<b-col md="9" offset-md="3">
<b-img class="img-fluid" id="knife" src="media/knife/My_Knife.jpg"> </b-img>
</b-col>
</b-row>
<b-row>
<b-col md="6">
</b-col>
<b-col md="6">
</b-col>
</b-row>
</div>
</b-container>
</b-col>
</b-row>
</b-container>
</template>
<script>
import MenuBar from './MenuBar'
export default {
name: 'whatwecan',
data: function() {
return {
}
},
components: {
MenuBar
}
}
</script>

@ -33,6 +33,13 @@ import scooter from './components/edition1/scooter'
import OpenCallPage from './components/OpenCallPage'
import SecondEditionPage from './components/SecondEditionPage'
import EditorNote2 from './components/EditorNote2'
import knife from './components/knife'
import simmered from './components/simmered'
import soulsoup from './components/soulsoup'
import phone from './components/phone'
import whatwecan from './components/whatwecan'
import lychee from './components/lychee'
Vue.config.productionTip = false
@ -62,8 +69,12 @@ const router = new VueRouter({
{ path: '/secondissue', component: SecondEditionPage },
{ path: '/firstissue', component: SplashPage },
{ path: '/editornote1', component: EditorNote },
{ path: '/knife', component: knife },
{ path: '/simmered', component: simmered },
{ path: '/soulsoup', component: soulsoup },
{ path: '/phone', component: phone },
{ path: '/whatwecan', component: whatwecan },
{ path: '/lychee', component: lychee }
]

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